Love is Worth Dying For
by Deyinel
Summary: Love doesn't care about trivial things like race, age, religen, or even whether you have a heartbeat. At the church, Emily tries to do the 'right' thing, but Victor won't let the love of his afterlife go so easily. VictorXEmily and VictoriaXBJ. Complete!
1. What's Wrong?

Love is Worth Dieing For

Disclaimer: I don't own Corpse Bride. If I did, this ending would have been in the movie, or at least a V/E ending. I guess that's what fan fictions are for, eh?

Hey, there. I was thinking about the various Corpse Bride fics I have read, and believe me, it gladdens my heart to see so many Victor/Emily fans. Anyway, I noticed that one of the more popular themes was "What if Victoria didn't get to the church on time?" I really like that theme, and I snap up the stories with it like they're candy, but I decided to take it in a bit of a different direction. My first Corpse Bride fic, enjoy!

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The church was reverently still. The polished oak pews, filled with both the dead and the living, were as silent as the grave, no pun intended. All eyes were focused on the back of the church where the bride and groom stood before a white draped table.

Victor stood, tall and gangly, and looked into Emily's deep black eyes. It seemed funny to him now that he had been so frightened of her originally. The mere fact that she was dead had terrified him and blocked out the other things he had begun to feel about her. At least he had finally had some time to realize those feelings. In her eyes he saw an immeasurable happiness, but also fear, the fear that this was all a dream and, like a dream, it would fade away and be lost.

He smiled at her encouragingly, as Elder Gutknecht uncorked the jug of poison. He gave her hand a small squeeze. The decaying fabric of her glove was rough and spidery against his fingers, but her hand was firm and soft. He was rewarded with one of her oh so sweet smiles and a answering squeeze of her own.

"Living first," the elder said in his dry crackling voice, and motioned for Victor to continue with the ceremony.

Accordingly, Victor released Emily's hand and raised his own in the attitude of an oath taker.

"With this hand," he began, his voice calm and sure, "I will lift your sorrows." He reached out and picked the elegant goblet off the cloth covered table. He was slightly surprised at how calm he was, when he had been so nevus at the rehearsal. But what he was doing now felt so _right_. He felt as if he had been waiting all his life for this moment and he knew he could do it. For Emily. Turning back to his bride to be, he continued. "Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine."

"Now you," the elder turned to Emily. Victor gave her a small smile, just enough to show her he was there for her. To show her she would never be alone again.

"With this hand I will lift your sorrows," she said. Her voice was like birdsong on a fresh spring day and Victor was left quite breathless at the sound of it.

Picking up the bottle of poison, Emily turned gracefully and began pouring the frothing liquid into Victor's goblet. "Your cup will never empty," she recited. "For I will be..." but then she stopped suddenly, startled at something only she could see. She looked back at Victor, her eyes worried now and hesitant. "I will be..." she tried again, but once again she halted. Victor watched her face as she floundered in indecision, trying to ask her what the matter was by using only his eyes.

"Go on, my dear," the elder said kindly. Emily rallied herself and began once more.

"Your cup will never empty..." she paused, then went on. "For I will be..." but she seemed unable to complete her vow.

"For I will be your wine," Victor finished for her and raised the bronze goblet to his lips. But suddenly Emily came to a decision and covered the top of the goblet with her hand, her expression pained.

"She's having second thoughts," a skeleton in the forefront of the church murmured to his living companion. Emily turned to face Victor and the pain in her eyes made him want to take her in his arms and comfort her.

"I can't," she whispered wretchedly.

"What's wrong," Victor pleaded and began to turn in the direction she had been looking, but Emily took his chin in her hand and kept him facing her.

"_This _is wrong," she answered, miserable, but adamant. Crystal tears shimmered behind her long lashes and her voice was husky with pain. "I was a bride," she said. "My dreams were taken from me. Well now," and she looked away, as though she could not bare to meet his eyes. "Now I've stolen them from someone else." A single tear coursed down her cold blue cheek, glittering in the candle light. "I love you, Victor," she continued., "but you are not mine." She started to turn away, to further explain her revelation, but Victor caught her shoulders, staring earnestly into her face.

"Emily," he said softly, forming the word carefully, as if it were blown glass. The love packed into that single word sent a tremor down Emily's spine and she froze, unable to speak, as he continued. "This is not wrong," he insisted, gently but firmly. "How can it be wrong when it's the only thing I've done that ever felt so _right? _

"Now, listen to me. My life up until this point was as dull and bland as clotted oatmeal. Nothing goes on in this town but gossip and misery. Everyone is so afraid of their own shadow they never give you more than the time of day. I had an arranged marriage with a girl I had never met, which was intended to increase my parent's social status." He paused, and a quirky smile crept around his face like a beacon. "Then, I met you. And I was terrified." Victor chuckled softly, remembering his first reaction to his beloved. "I was married to a corpse, of _course _I was terrified.

"Then I began to get to _know _you and see that you were a person, too. I think I loved you even then, but I still felt as though I had to get away. To do the _normal _thing, the expected thing and return to the land of the living. I was a fool, Emily, a blind fool. And I had convinced myself that I loved Victoria, that I could be happy with her, even though had known her for only a few hours. I thought I loved her simply because I was supposed to and because I was searching for normality.

"You're a wonderful person, Emily. You're quick to laugh and you spread joy to everyone you meet. I've seen it. I had started to realize how much you meant to me, but I still felt as if what I was feeling was inappropriate. As if I wasn't allowed to feel for you and love you because you were dead. As if that mattered.

"And then something happened. When I heard you say to your friends that you couldn't ask me to stay with you, to die for you, I felt the last boundary give way. You were willing to put my happiness before your own, you still are. But what if they are one and the same?

"Emily, I love you with all my heart and soil. I love your lips and your eyes and your hair. Your laughter and tears. I love your selflessness and your forgiving nature. I can't begin to be good enough for you, to _deserve _you, but if you'll have me, then I promise, _you will never be lonely again._ And I'll strive to be the husband you've always dreamed of."

Emily was speechless, tears running freely down her cheeks like two shining waterfalls. She could think of nothing but the words Victor has spoken with such pure honestly, could see nothing except his earnest face. The occupants of the church, including one uninvited guest, the one who had unknowingly started this recitation, were paralyzed. Their collective eyes and eye sockets followed the lanky young man, as he once more picked up the goblet and held it in both hands. "People can claim that they have found things worth killing for," Victor stated, his eyes focused on Emily. "Well, I have found something worth dieing for." Then he lifted the goblet to his lips and drained it.

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There's the first chapter for you! This story kind of changed as I was writing it. I had originally planned to have more of Victoria in this chapter, and to have Victor's declaration of love be spoken while he knows she's in the room. Ah, well.

I know that is one heck of a long speech Victor gives out, but I think every word is important to get his point across. There will be lots of V/E fluff in future chapters, 'cause I love that, but there will also be action, so no worries. Plus, I promise I won't leave Victoria with Mr. robs-and-kills.

Sooooo... R&R please, I'd really like to see what you think.

Oh, I dunno how much I'll be able to update this story, because I have two other ones on the go right now. Please be patient and I'll update as soon as I can. ;)

PS. I will probably revamp this chapter later on, as I'm not completely satisfied with it.


	2. Husband and Wife

Love Is Worth Dieing For chapter 2: Husband and Wife

Disclaimer: I clearly don't own "Corpse Bride" yet, as its ending is still Victor/Victoria. But someday...

**_Important_ - **I have story ideas in the following categories: "Carl Squared" and "Class of the Titans." (Cartoon T.V. Shows.) I have looked everywhere I could think of, but I couldn't find sections for them. Does anyone know where they might go, or what I should do in terms of posting them? Please, guys, I really need help on this. Anyone who helps me out will receive my heartfelt thanks and a virtual hug of mythical proportions.

Thanks SO much to all my kind reviewers! It was beyond amazing how many people read and enjoyed this story and I'm still blushing over all the wonderful comments. I'd like to buy you all a couple of rounds at The Ball and Socket Pub. (Just remind me of that when we end up there, as it is probably far in the future.) ;)

And now, put your fleshy or skeletal hands together for...Chapter Two!

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For a moment after swallowing the poison, Victor did not move. The congregation, still dumbfounded, did the same.

Emily gazed at her almost-husband through the film of tears his speech had wrought. His eyes were closed, his breathing fast and shallow. With every breath his spidery, black hair shifted and shivered. Emily was sure she could hear the rapid beats of his heart.

_He's frightened, _she thought. And really, why shouldn't he be? He was living the final moments of a life which, though unpleasant, was the only life he could ever have. Even though he knew what awaited him on the other side, it must still be very hard to let go of everything he had done in his life.

He had given up his life for her.

Impulsively, she crossed the foot and a half separating them and wrapped her mismatched arms around him. She felt him stiffen slightly, then relax into her embrace. She could feel the warmth of his body through his cloths. He opened his eyes and gazed into her tear-streaked face, and she saw that, though his whole frame was knotted with apprehension, his eyes were steady. He smiled at her, every line of his face proclaiming his love.

Then a shudder wracked his body from head to toe and he convulsively grabbed for his heart, his hands moving jerkily like a puppet's. But he made no sound, instead, it was Emily who cried out. For as Victor's hands groped jerkily at the front of his coat a scene flashed before her eyes. It was a scene she always strove to forget, but which had never fully left her mind.

Once again she felt the excitement coursing through her as she stood under the dark bows of the twisted tree that fateful night. Her dead heart seemed to beat wildly again, and her veins, dry and still now, tingled with lifeblood. Then came a sound behind her; a twig cracked like a splintering bone and she turned with relief. And then...

The sharp pain in her chest, sudden and swift and unbelievable. The horrible fiery agony as the dagger pierced her heart. And the equally horrible blow to the heart she had received as she looked up into the face of her beloved, transformed now into a gloating devil.

And then the blackness of death.

Coming back to herself, Emily found that she was kneeling on the floor, Victor's crumpled body face down on the cold tile beside her.

Because of her he would never live out his full life, but remain locked like this forever. Was this any better than what her former husband to be had done to her? What if Victor hadn't really been sure he was ready for death, but hadn't wanted to let her down? What kind of a wife was she if she was so selfish?

What had she done?

_What had she done?_

Then he stirred, shifting on the hard, pail floor, and as he moved his hand out from under him, bracing it against the marble for support, she saw the cold blue skin, identical to her own.

"Oh, Victor," she murmured, more to herself than him. "Forgive me." Fresh tear tracks were marking her still wet cheeks. Victor rose slightly and turned so he was facing her, supporting his raised torso with his arms.

In a voice so low only she could hear he whispered "I can't."

Despairingly, she turned from his eyes, dark in his deathly blue face, but he caught her cheek with one hand and forced her eyes back to meet his. "Because there's nothing to forgive," he said, and a gentle smile crept across his face. And Emily understood without his saying anything more. When she had died her life had been stolen from her. Victor was leaving his life behind for a happier future than he could ever have in the land of the living. She smiled back at him slowly. Then his arms went round her and his lips found hers in a wonderful, magical kiss.

And this, at last, was enough to release the spectators from their awed silence. Slowly, hesitantly, a smattering of applause began and swept round the church, growing louder as it went until it was a storm. Victor and Emily reluctantly parted and rose to face the Elder once again. The old skeleton raised his warped and bony hand and waited for the applause to die down. Then he said the words everyone had been waiting for.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. I'd tell you to kiss the bride," he added, turning to Victor with a smile, "but you seem to have beaten me to it."

"That's all right," Emily said. "We wouldn't want to disappoint." Then she giggled softly and moved closer to her new husband, guiding his lips to her own. How could she have let herself give in to her doubts twice?

Amid the shower of cheers and congratulations directed at the newlyweds, the single uninvited guest vanished and was not missed.

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The sky had clouded up and big, fat raindrops had already begun to fall as a lone, white gowned figure fled from the church. _How fitting, _Victoria thought fiercely as the drops increased to match the ones flowing from her eyes.

It wasn't just that Victor had married someone else, that hurt, but she knew that when potential spouses became unavailable parents usually made shift to fine others. No, what had really shocked her had been the total wrongness of it; A man was marrying a corpse. And, what's more, how loving and sure of himself Victor had been. He was like a completely different person from the one she had known.

Despondently, Victoria sat down on an unadorned bench a stone's throw from the church. The marble was cold and hard through the fabric of her dress. Dead. Victor was dead.

"I'll never see him again," she murmured, another glittering tear escaping and rolling down her cheek.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that, my dear," someone said from behind her.

Before she had time to recover from the shock and do something sensible, such as scream, Victoria felt the cold circle of a revolver pressing into the back of her neck.

"What are you doing," she managed to choke out.

"You'll see soon enough," Barkis whispered exultantly. The pressure of the gun increased, as he grabbed the young bride's arm and jerked her to her feet. His hand was like a vice. "Now walk," he hissed. "And don't make a sound, or..." He left the sentence hanging.

Victoria felt a cold chill, like icy water sloshing through her veins, as her new husband steered her towards the bridge out of town and into the forest. She knew in her heart she would not come out of those dense trees alive.

And when she died, she would be alone.

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Oooooo! Dark, I know, and you probably want to kill me for the cliffhanger, but I couldn't resist.

If anyone's sad that I didn't have Emily find out about Barkis keep in mind that this story is far from over. I promise there will be lots of action. There will also be lots more V/E fluff for fans like me. ;)

Oh, and don't worry, this story will be a bit dark, but I plan on having a happy ending. And I'm sorry for the short chapters, I find it almost impossible to write long ones.

So, R&R and tell me how I'm doing. And if anyone has and answer to my **_Important_** question at the top _please _e-mail me and tell me. Thanks!


	3. I've fallen for you

LIWDF chapter 3

Disclaimer: Judging by Corpse Bride's ending it is pretty clear I don't own it.

Greetings, my rocken' readers! Once again, thanks to everyone who reviewed, you have all been so nice and encouraging, and you help me keep going. I made a mistake in this, and some other stories, by starting them before I really knew how I was going to end them, so that is part of the reason my updates are not as frequent as I would like. Ah, well, I do what I can.

Enjoy this chapter. It features the song 'Fallen' from Pretty Woman, which I also don't own. It is a very sweet movie, and I think of Victor and Emily every time I hear that song. This is my first time doing a songfic (chapter, anyway) so please keep that in mind.

And please review, it makes me feel happy.

Oh, just one more thing...

**_Important_ - **I have story ideas in the following categories: "Carl Squared" and "Class of the Titans." (Cartoon T.V. Shows.) I have looked everywhere I could think of, but I couldn't find sections for them. Does anyone know where they might go, or what I should do? They don't really work in the Misc. section. Please, guys, I really need help on this. Anyone who helps me out will receive my heartfelt thanks and a virtual hug of mythical proportions.

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"Hurry up, wench, I haven't got all night!"

Victoria tried to go faster, but her ankle turned on a stone and she fell, biting her lip and filling her mouth with the iron taste of blood. _My blood is iron, _she thought dizzily, as Barkis cursed behind her. _Like chains inside of me. But it seems I'll be free of them soon._

The clamp-like hand on her arm tightened, and she was yanked to her feet. She sucked her breath in sharply, as his grip slackened and her wait was full on her injured ankle.

The wan rays of moonlight that made it through the thick branches of the forest were enough to show her her ruined wedding dress. The thick trees and bushes had been unmerciful, clutching and tearing at her dress as she passed. And the many falls she had taken, of which this was only the most recent, had left smears of dirt across the delicate fabric.

Her ankle chose that moment to give out again, and she dropped to her knees in a pool of white lace. Barkis dropped her arm in disgust and leaned against a tree.

"You can have five minutes," he said grudgingly. "If you can't walk after that I'm going to drag you."

Victoria did not respond, she was praying. But she did not pray for rescue, she knew the chances of that were slim to none. No, she thought of the people she had seen in the church, the dead people. And she thought of the peaceful look on Victor's face after the poison had done its work.

Victoria prayed for death.

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The waining moon was rising as the wedding guests departed. There would be a reception later, of course, but the living guests were not planning on attending that, and were busy saying goodbye to their friends and loved ones. The guests also understood that the new husband and wife wanted a few minutes alone before the party, so the various corpses and skeletons headed back to the underworld after a last look at the sky and a few parting words.

Victor and Emily stood side by side on the old bridge. Her hand was on his shoulder, and his arm encircled her waist. Together they watched the water, frosted sliver by the moonlight, as it flowed under their feet and away.

"It moves on, we don't," Emily murmured. She smiled at her husband, memorizing his every feature, though they would not change for an eternity. His black hair was just a little unruly, testament to his poison-induced convolutions, and his smile was gentle.

I can't believe it, you're a dream comin' true.  
I can't believe how I have fallen for you.

"When I was a child," Victor said softly, watching the water. "I used to sit on this bridge and dream. Dream about going away, far away from all the rules and constraints. But I never really believed it would happen."

And I was not looking, was content to remain.  
And it's ironic to be back in the game.

He turned and smiled at his wife. _My wife, _he thought happily. His arm tightened around her slightly, just enough to communicate the love he was feeling. Strangely, he felt more alive now than he ever had during his life.

You are the one who's led me to the sun.  
How could I know that I was lost without you...

Victor turned a little more, Emily turning with him until they were completely facing each other, and Victor took his arm from her waist to clasp both her hands in his own. He felt a brief uneasiness when he first touched her left hand, from the feel of bones against flesh, but it faded and was gone. She was what she was, and he wouldn't change her for the world.

She gazed up at him with eyes whose brightness rivaled the moon, and were not nearly so remote.

And I want to tell you, you control my rain...  
And you should know that you are life in my veins.

He leaned close to her, inhaling the scent of dried flowers that hung about her, and brought his lips close to her ear. "And I definitely didn't think anyone as beautiful and clever as you would want me for a husband," he whispered. His tone was light, but Emily could tell he meant every word.

You are the one who's led me to the sun.  
How could I know that I was lost without you...

She giggled softly, then withdrew her hands from his and wrapped her arms around him, delighting in the feelings that seemed to pour from him in torrents, which filled her with wonderful, indescribable feelings.

I can't believe it, you're a dream comin' true.  
I can't believe how I have fallen for you.

She had not felt love for a long, long time, and she could never remember feeling what she did now, not even with _the man. _She felt his arms come round her, hesitantly at first, then the hug became firmer, each person communicating what they could not express in words with their bodies. Knowing the other was aware exactly of the message they were sending and was responding in kind.

And I was not looking, was content to remain.  
And it's erotic to be back in the game.

Slowly, without speaking, the couple parted and, holding hands, walked gently over the bridge and into the forest. No one existed except them, and the moon. And it was only there to light their way.

My, my, my, my. You're a dream comin' true

I can't believe how I have fallen for you.

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There you go, chapter three. I hope I handled the song part okay, I rather like how it came out. Please review and tell me how I'm doing, or you could give me compliments. I don't have a problem with that. ;)


	4. A kidnapping?

LIWDF chapter 4

Disclaimer: Oooooooooh, ye cruel gods and demons, hearken now on the misery thou hast brought with thy declaration that Corpse Bride is owned not by my person! Had it come to my deserving hands thou knowest the conclusion would have been more to the liking of those not plagued by empty skulls! (Translation: a V/E ending.)

Yes, well, it's fun to do that once in a while, besides, I just finished reading "The Odyssey" and I'm now reading "The Iliad." (I know it's backward, but I knew both stories already, and I like "The Odyssey" better.)

So, here is chapter 4. This story will probably be finished after a few more chapters, as I have most of it planned out, and it shouldn't take too long.

Any misspelled words during Bonejangle's speeches are purposeful. They are me trying to communicate the way he talks. ;)

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"There is one thing I'm uneasy about," Victor said. His voice indicated this was difficult for him to say, especially so soon after his marriage. Still, he knew he wouldn't feel quite satisfied until he had gotten this off his chest, and he wanted to feel that he could tell his new bride everything that was on his mind. _Even this? _A voice in his head speculated, and Victor's arm which was draped round his beloveds shoulders tightened unconsciously. He didn't want to hurt her, but he also didn't want to keep secrete what he felt.

"What is it, darling," Emily asked. She turned slightly in his hold so she could look at him, tall and dark and wonderful against the night. The crisp air stirred his strands of hair and carried the sent of growing things and rich black soil.

The two of them had been walking peacefully together back toward the church. It was time to head back for the celebration in the underworld, but though they didn't have to be anywhere special for the magic to work, the two instinctively gravitated toward the place where they had truly been joined, both in the eyes of others and in their hearts.

Now Victor stopped walking. Some of his former shyness was returning, and he was mentally kicking himself for bringing this up. _What if she thinks you're insulting her? What if she thinks you lied about loving her the way you lied to her about wanting to see your parents? _He winced and stammered a bit, but knew it would be worse to leave this inside than talking about it could ever be. Emily stroked his arm encouragingly, the lace of her glove rubbing across his jacket sleeve was loud in the stillness.

"Well, I-I don't know quite how to say this," he began, aware of Emily's dark starry eyes watching him. "The-the fact of the matter is, I don't really know anything about how things work downstairs and, well..." he trailed off and looked at Emily helplessly with the attitude of a lost puppy.

"Yes?" she asked patiently. She knew above all she must not startle him, as the shyness he had started to overcome still had a bit of a hold on him.

"Am I going to rot?" Victor blurted out all of a sudden, then looked terribly mortified as Emily laughed.

"And here I thought this was something serious and dreadful," she exclaimed. Victor promptly ducked his head, his feathery bangs hiding his face like black cobwebs. "I'm sorry, Victor." Emily wrapped her mismatched arms around him and lifted his chin with a delicate blue finger. _Silly, _she chided herself. _He's been dead for all of twenty minutes. Of course he doesn't know how things work. Remember how _you_ felt._

"But anyway," she continued. "I wasn't laughing at _you, _I was laughing because that was what _I_ was worried about once I had finally stopped feeling miserable all the time and started caring about how I looked. Only I didn't tell anyone and just sat there worrying.

"And to answer your question, no, I don't thing _you'll _decay at all. Basically the rule downstairs is that your mind keeps your body together. Usually when someone dies they are depressed, sometimes horribly guilty, or angry. Then their bodies start decaying because their minds are so dismal. When they come to terms with their feelings they stop decomposing. That's just the way it is."

"But then you..." Victor started.

"Oh, yes," the corpse bride continued. "I was miserable at first. Remember, I had been betrayed by the one I loved – thought I loved." With a small smile. "Miss Plum and Bonejangles helped me a lot," she remembered. "BJ had been through a great deal of pain himself. But when he recovered he decided to keep rotting, just to see what it was like." Victor chuckled softly. Having met the groovy bonedaddy himself he could easily imagine that happening.

"And when I recovered," Emily said. "I looked like this."

"You mean beautiful?" Victor asked, his mouth curved in a gentle smile. Emily giggled and rested her veiled head on his shoulder. The sweet smell of dried flowers hung around her and Victor held her closer to him, running his fingers through her long hair.

At that moment the peaceful scene was shattered by a shout from the direction of the forest. Turning, the couple saw the figure of Bonejangles, bony feet clacking on the cobbles as he dashed over the bridge and up to them. He wasn't out of breath, one of the advantages of being dead, but his eye rolled wildly in its socket, and Victor moved away from Emily slightly to support his shaking shoulder bones.

"What's the matter," Emily asked worriedly. She had never seen him so upset before, as he was usually so full of life, so to speak.

"There's been a kidnapping," the skeleton said. In spite of his lack of lungs he still managed to sound out of breath. He clutched Victor's shoulder tight with his bony fingers and his eye rolled uneasily to the other socket.

"A kidnapping?" Victor asked. He couldn't imagine something like that happening in this dead town.

"That's right," Bonejangles said, and his eye rolled back again with a sound like billiard balls clicking together. "I was taken' a little walk in the woods afore headin' downstairs again, and I heard a voice. A real hard voice it was, to. Cold 'n cruel. I poked ma' head through the trees and there they was: A real proper lookin' guy with a nasty snarling face, and young gal all decked out in a wedding dress. He 'ad a gun to her back 'n was pushin' her along. I didn't want to show myself fer fear he'd kill her!

"She was real beautiful," he added, in quite a different tone from his previous one. He turned to the newlyweds to see their reactions and found Victor tense with stiffened limbs. The dead flesh of his cheeks had become a pale, icy blue and he was capable of forming only one word with his frozen lips.

"Victoria..."

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Ten minutes later the moon shone on quite a different scene. A crowd of corpses crouched by the side of the church, lousy with fleshless limbs and other grotesqueries.

Once he had recovered from his shock, Victor had told Emily and Bonejangles about Victoria, as Emily had previously known very little about her, and Bonejangles nothing at all. It was only sense that it was she who was in trouble, as she had been getting married today and so would be wearing a wedding dress. They had sensed there wasn't much time, so Bonejangles went back to the underworld and got some help.

Now fifteen corpses gathered in a rag-tag huddle by the moon's ghostly light. Victor's dog Scraps yelped, and was quickly hushed.

Abruptly, Victor rose from where he had been crouched on the dirt in the circle's center, and brushed of his pant legs with a fastidiousness born of long habit. In one hand he clutched a short stick which he had been using to draw diagrams in the soft earth.

He smudged these out with his slender foot as he stood there. They were no longer necessary.

"All right, everyone," he said softly, looking at the expectant faces before him. "I think we have a plan." Emily smiled proudly from her place at his side. She had somehow always known he could be strong and resourceful. The plan was sound, and he had come up with it entirely on his own. The others knew it too, and respect and admiration for their newest arrival glittered in many pairs of eyes.

"One more thing," Victor added, as the gathering began breaking up, preparatory to putting the plan in action. The group turned back to him and found the tall, skinny corpse grinning in an almost wicked fashion.

"Play nice," he said. And the party moved out.

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Woow! Some action at last for those of you who don't live by fluff alone. Not that Victoria's ish in the last few chapters wasn't action, just that 'the plan' will be more so.

Speaking of which, 'the plan' will be taken from another movie, (which I _will _credit in the next chapter, by the way,) only it will be much darker and more creepy than it was in the original source.

**If you guess what the plan is and where it's taken from I will tell you who I will be paring Victoria with. **

**Hint about the plan: Victor's last line in this chapter.**

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And Now, a scene from after the movie:

_(Victor is fixing the roof of his and Victoria's house on a windy, rainy day. He stands up and walks to another spot on the roof. As he is walking Victoria comes out of the house and sees him.)_

**Victoria: **Victor! Get down from there! Are you trying to kill yourself!

**Victor: **_(Thinking) _Dang it! She's on to me.

See you soon!


	5. The Plan

LIWDF chap 5

Disclaimer: What do Corpse Bride and Toy Story have in common? I don't own either of them! _Sniff. _And I have to tell myself that every day. _Sniff._

Okay, chapter five. In this chapter 'the plan' is put into effect, so hold onto your computer screens. This is probably the penultimate chapter, but we'll see. :)

Thank you to my wonderful reviewers! You cheer me up and help me to update!

Oh, forgive me if this chapter is dark. It sort of wrote itself that way and I went with it. Please, nobody hate me, as you know I promised a happy ending. ;)

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Mist.

Nothing ever seems more ghostly and mysterious than this cool, silent vapor which steals gently and unobtrusively around us until we are smothered in its moist embrace.

The mist crept through the dense undergrowth of the forest, seeping through the gaps between bracken and bush, and winding reproachfully around the legs of the two people who dared intrude on its quiet solitude.

Victoria dropped to her knees once again, exhausted and trembling. As she collapsed the mist puffed up around her dirty wedding dress, then settled again like a gray blanket.

Barkis let go of her disdainfully, wiping his hand on his jacket as though she were something slimy and unpleasant, and assessed the clearing with a practiced eye. Through the mist the gaunt shapes of trees faded in and out of sight, gnarly, twisted branches clawing at the air. His feet crunched on unseen twigs as he scanned for watchers. At last he stepped back, satisfied.

This was far enough from the village.

Victoria, meanwhile, was crouched in the center of the clearing, head down and silent. However, with the certainty of death had come a decision. Slowly, under cover of the mist the young bride peeled off her gloves, soiled now and sodden. Then her pale hands moved slowly over the leaf mold in a desperate search. At last they closed on a large rock with a sharp, broken edge. She brushed the leaves off her prize, and swiftly concealed it under her dress, just as Barkis finished his inspection.

Victoria would _not _go down without a fight.

He came striding back to her then, arrogance in every line of his face. He still carried his gun in his right hand. On a sudden inspiration, Victoria cried out, staring at something behind her husband. The man turned slightly, and Victoria took the opportunity to rise, tattered skirt flying, and leap at him, brandishing her make-shift weapon in one hand.

But he was too fast.

Turning back swiftly, Barkis caught her rock-holding hand and smashed the butt of his gun into the side of her head. She went limp and he threw her to the frozen ground, where she lay, her outline unclear in the mist. He spat contemptuously into the cloudy whiteness and curled his lip, then raised his gun and took aim at her prostrate form.

_"Murderer..." _

He paused and looked uneasily around him for the source of the wispy, accusing voice, carried on the rising wind. The branches above his head rubbed and scratched at each other as though they were hands seeking warmth and he heard the faint cawing of crows.

When he heard nothing more for several minutes, Barkis again turned to the task at hand. He raised his gun once more.

_"Muuuurderer..."_

This time Barkis turned suddenly in the direction he thought the voice had come from, gun still raised as he fought the goose pimples slowly emerging on his neck and arms.

"It's just the wind," he murmured to himself, peering into the wall of grayness surrounding him.

There was a bitter, haunting laugh from somewhere he couldn't place and the voice spoke again.

_"No, Barkis," _it informed him mockingly, becoming stronger as it continued. _"Out of the two of us, you are mo_re fu_ll_ _o_f win_d_ _t_han I."

The voice now had a familiar sound to it, and Barkis began to suspect this was just someone playing a prank. Perhaps one of those common people who lived in this pathetic excuse for a town.

"Who's there?" he called, anger masking the nameless terrors lurking in his heart. "Show yourself!"

"_W_ith pleas_ur_e," said the voice, and a figure began to emerge, as though by magic, from the wall of mist. Barkis was now certain he had heard the voice before. It was feminine, but held a spark of disdainful fire.

As the figure became clearer Barkis could discern that she was dressed in a long flowing wedding gown, its tatters flying in the wind like white, ghostly wings. A lacy, ragged vale covered her long, blue hair and masked her face, and of her outstretched arms, one was blue flesh, the other white bone.

Barkis recoiled, he had convinced himself the abominations in the Everglot mansion had been hallucinations, and even if he hadn't, the dead bride, wreathed in mist, was far more frightening.

The corpse bride was now fully reveled, just enough mist surrounding her to make her image slightly otherworldly. Now she raised her fleshed hand, the right one, and lifted the vale, sweeping it away from her face in one fluid motion. Barkis took a half step back, feeling icy sweat break out on his forehead and trickle down the small of his back. That face...

"Don't you remember me, Barkis?" asked the bride sweetly.

"_Emily_!" he gasped out. "No, it can't be!"

"I know it's been a while." Fained understanding in her too nice voice. "Love 'em and leave 'em, right? Only you seem to leave them...for dead. Now dropping her facade, Emily smiled in quite a wicked manner, and came a few steps closer, backing Barkis into the center of the clearing.

"You know," Emily continued pleasantly. "Since I died I made quite a few friends. And they _really _aren't happy about the way I was treated."

As soon as she spoke other forms began to slowly emerge from all around. Barkis turned, and turned again, as the forms became clearer and he saw protruding bones, men with holes in their chests, and other horrors.

He backed away from the corpses in front of him, then felt something run over his foot and looked down on a bodiless head, supported by scurrying cockroaches. He tried to run to his left and smacked right into the corpse of a proper looking man, who split his body into two halves upon the collision and stared at Barkis, open hatred in his eyes.

Desperate, Barkis ducked around the split man and put his back to a tree. The next instant something landed in his hair, and then a great, black spider ran down his forehead and over his nose, pinching that appendage rather sharply as it went. Barkis let out an animalistic whimper and cowered against the tree trunk.

When he dared to look up Emily was standing there, vale whipping around her slender frame from the force of the wind.

"You had better run, Barkis," Emily stated, eyes hard as black diamonds. "Keep running and don't come back. And if you ever hurt anyone again we'll find out, Barkis. The dead can see _everything_," she said. Then she bent forward, a green maggot poking his head from her ear and glaring as she did.

"Run," the corps bride said. And he did.

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As soon as Barkis's terrified figure was out of site a wild cheer erupted from the group of corpses. Victor ran to Emily and swung her around in a wild dance. There was hand shaking and back slapping all around.

After a moment the newlyweds stopped dancing and just held each other. Victor wrapped his arms around his wife and let her rest her lace valed head on his shoulder. Emily was crying, but they were tears of happiness. She had stood up to her murderer, faced her fear. And she had won.

"You were wonderful, Emily." Victor's voice was so full of love and pride it seemed about to overflow.

"It was your plan, darling," Emily told him, snuggling closer.

"Maybe, but _you _made him tremble." Emily giggled, feeling like the bubbly teenager she had died as, but lost touch with for so long.

Just then, the party who had been sent to carry Victoria to safety and revive her rounded the crest of the hill above the clearing. The high wind had begun to blow the mist away, so Victor's group could see them quite plainly as they picked their way down the hill. Three skeletons, lead by Bonejangles and carrying Victoria between them. She was not moving, and her escort looked so grim the corpses below stopped celebrating and watched silently.

Reaching the hill's bottom, Bonejangles helped to lay Victoria gently on the ground. The other corpses gathered round. No one spoke, they just watched Bonejangles.

"Look," he said, and pointed. It was all he needed to say. Victoria's face, upturned and bathed in moonlight, was pale blue, the color growing darker by the second.

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And that was chapter 5, everyone.

So, in case you still don't know, 'the plan' was taken from "Toy Story" when all Sid's toys get back at him. I saw that movie recently, and I just couldn't get that part out of my head. Corpses are naturally freaky, and I just started thinking about how much scarier they would be in a dark, mist shrouded forest with no escape in site. And I really like how in control Emily turned out to be.

Some of her lines are almost exactly what Woody says during that part of "Toy Story," I just changed them to fit the situation. And, of course, Victor's line "play nice" in the last chapter was from that part as well.

If you noticed any inconsistencies, such as how Emily found out Victoria's kidnapper was Barkis they will be explained in the next chapter.

As for Victoria, you can probably tell what's happening to her. If you're getting ready to kill me again just repeat 'happy ending, happy ending' to yourself for a while. ;) There may have to be two more chapters now, but I'm pretty sure that's it. And they shouldn't take too long. I'm focusing all my writing time on this story until it's finished. Go me.

As always, please review, even if it's only to yell at me about my little cliffhanger. ;)

See you later!


	6. I've lost everything

LIWDF chap 6

Disclaimer: Wrong pairing regrettable ending not created by me.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed. Your comments mean a lot to me, and encourage me to keep updating as fast as I am, which is very fast for me. ;) I also apologize for the long wait in this chapter. I am having quite a bit of writer's block.

Okay, so this chapter is a little shorter than the last one, but I really wanted to post something for you faithful readers, who I _know _aren't very angry at me for the cliffie at the end of chapter 5. ;)

Enjoy!

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A shaft of moonlight, pure and untroubled by the somber tableau so far below it, fell through the tree branches, ghostly where it hit the retreating fog, and shone on Victoria's deathly blue face. She lay, wedding dress torn and dirty, long brown hair spilling from her once tight bun.

Around her the dead watched and waited.

They were usually less dismal at the prospect of new arrivals. Of course they sympathized with the poor soul, but death was really just a new beginning. The beginning of a life free from life's troubles. In Victoria's case, however, the dead had thought to save her, had thought they _had _saved her. And now she lay, silent and cold.

Hence this silent vigil under the carefree moon.

"Well," Miss Plum exclaimed, rubbing her hands together with finality, "that's that."

The old corpse was no less saddened than her companions, except perhaps for the newlyweds, who stood close, holding each other as though they would never let go, but she knew someone had to be strong for the others, and, as often seemed to happen, she was that someone.

At her words the dead shifted, shaking themselves out of whatever feelings and memories they had been reliving. Bonejangles came forward, hat in hand, and motioned to the skeletal party who had carried Victoria previously. She still had not regained consciousness, so they slowly gathered around her and gently lifted her onto their shoulder blades once again. Then, murmuring 'hopscotch' they vanished.

Gradually the other members of the rescue party followed, until only Mrs. Plum, Victor and Emily were left. Mrs. Plum cast a glance at the entwined lovers, then shook her head and took her leave of them. They needed each other right now, and nothing she could say would help.

When the were finally alone Emily raised her head from its resting place on her corpse groom's shoulder. His dark eyes met hers and he smiled wanly, asking pardon for the tears glistening on his pale cheeks. Emily smiled back. She was no longer worried about his feelings toward her, and knew he sorrowed for a friend, not a lover.

"I won't tell you not to weep," she murmured. "But understand that this is merely the start of a new existence, one without cares or troubles. And Victoria will need you to be strong for her." Victor nodded, his smile becoming more heartwarming.

"I know," he said. "It would be nice if you just held me for a little while before I have to start being strong, though."

Emily put a little more strength into her hug in response and laid her head back on his dark shoulder.

Above them, the moon no longer seemed coldly unfeeling, but instead gently silvered the two lovers where they stood under the dark trees.

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The first thing Victoria saw was a ceiling. It wasn't a particularly marvelous ceiling, being fairly plain except for several black boards which criss-crossed over it at intervals, but in her current state, Victoria found it the most interesting thing she could imagine.

Painstakingly, she scrutinized every inch of the ceiling with her eyes, noting the differences in the sizes of the knotholes which riddled the dark wood. If she focused very hard on this, not allowing herself time for thought, maybe she wouldn't remember why she had woken up in her wedding dress and corset, staring at the strange, but interesting, ceiling.

Unfortunately, she was only permitted a very few blissful, memory free minutes before something came between her and her new friend.

It was a skull.

Victoria screamed and lurched sideways. Suddenly there was nothing underneath her. She flailed her arms desperately and one hand grasped something soft, (a blanket?) but it came loose and she fell, landing on her shoulder on the hard wooden floor. She sucked in breath in expectation of pain, but there was none. She had felt her body strike the floor, but no pain had followed.

Somewhere in the back of her mind Victoria knew why she might have felt no pain, but she was interrupted before she could remember it.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," a deep, heavily accented voice said.

Victoria bit back another scream as the skull which had first frightened her loomed again in her vision. This time, however, she could see the out-thrust bony jaw moving with the words, and the single eye in one of the deep set sockets looked very aware. _It was talking to her!_

The young bride would not have been able to answer the talking skeleton had she not been meticulously trained for years on how a lady should respond in a variety of situations. She found herself speaking, though she didn't remember giving a conscious order to do so.

"No, no, forgive _me_, dear sir. I was merely startled by your somewhat unorthodox appearance." _Did I say that? _Victoria wondered incredulously. _Who knew etiquette was actually useful? _

Her new companion stared at her for a moment, his single eye rolling from one socket to the other. Finally he blurted out "blimey! Them's some big words fer a little maid!" Then he ducked his head slightly, and Victoria had the feeling he'd be blushing if he could. She felt a smile twitch at her lips, her terror gone. Yes, he was a skeleton, but so far he was one of the nicest people she'd ever met. Also, he reminded her a little of Victor.

Victor!

He was married to that corpse, and there had been other dead people there, at his wedding. Had this skeleton been there? Could he tell her where Victor was? But should she even look for Victor? He was married now. Victor had gotten married, and she had been alone.

Then Barkis had come.

She closed her eyes, unaware that the skeleton had sat back, looking worried. Barkis had come and made her go into the woods with him. He had a gun. They had fought and he had hit her with something. She remembered the searing pain in the side of her head. But now there was no pain. She had woken up here, with a skeleton, and there was no pain. But shouldn't she have a headache at least? Unless...

Victoria's eyes flew open and she began ripping at her gloves, desperately trying to get the slippery, white fabric off her hands. Her right glove came off and was sent flying across the dark paneled room. Victoria watched it, a spot of white in the darkness, as though it were the most important thing in the world.

She didn't want to see her hand, didn't want to see the proof of what must have happened. If she didn't look, that meant it hadn't happened. That meant she was only imagining things. That meant she wasn't...

She looked.

Pail, deathly blue skin covered her hand and arm, looking even more blue against the white of her wedding dress and left glove. Slowly Victoria laid her trembling left hand on her chest, feeling for a heartbeat she knew she wouldn't find. She felt the beginnings of tears finding tracks down her cheeks. Her _cold, blue _cheeks.

She curled up then, crumpling into herself, with one phrase repeating endlessly in her mind. _I've lost everything. I've lost everything. I've lost everything. _

Suddenly she was wrapped in something that felt like tree branches, but flexible. Only there weren't any trees. She knew it was the skeleton, and felt the instinct to recoil. But she felt so alone. She needed comfort. And if she was d... was d... was...not alive anymore, then she shouldn't push away someone who only wanted to help.

So she cried in his bony arms for a long, long time.

And strangely, it was comforting after all.

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So there's chapter 6! I will probably do at least two more chapters, because I'm starting to get more ideas now. :)

You've probably guessed who Victoria is pared with from this chapter, if not you'll get to _really _see more in the next one.

Oh, and _way _more V/E fluff coming your way in chapter 7 too, so don't despair if I haven't been putting in as much as you (and I) would like. ;)

Are _you _one of the awesome people who reviewed this chapter? And if not, how come?


	7. Heaven, Hell and tickle attacks

LIWDF chap 7

Disclaimer: The day Victor and Emily are together will be the day I or one of the many fans who feel the same as me own Corpse Bride. Has this happened yet? I thought not. Therefore, it is not mine. :(

Okay, hi there. Sorry for the long silence, but University makes me very busy. I'm almost finished this story now, probably only one more chapter after this one. I know I said that before, but now I'm _sure _of it. ;)

_The following was posted in all my stories._

**REVIWERS PLEASE READ:** Thanks so much to my reviewers! All the help and advice you give is wonderful. I really feel that you are helping me improve my writing style and spelling, though I know I'm still not great at the latter. The positive feedback is also awesome. It's a fantastic feeling to open a review and find that the person loved your story and wants to kill you if you don't update soon, lol. But seriously, without you guys to encourage me I would probably still update, but I wouldn't know whether people liked my story or not, and for what reasons. You, the reviewers, really aren't appreciated enough for what you do. It only takes a few minutes of your time and may seem like little to you, but just know that every review I get, whether it gives me helpful advice, update entreaties, or just tells me I'm doing a good job raises my spirits and lets me know there are people out there who like my story, even if I make mistakes. Remember, it's the little things in life that count. Every time you take a moment to do something for someone shows them you care. So thank you, and know that you are appreciated, for where would the authors be without the reviewers? (Very lonely.)

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Finally Victoria pulled away from her skeletal comforter. Embarrassed, she spent a few minutes on the hopeless task of fixing her hair, not looking at him.

Sitting beside her on bony knee-caps, Bonejangles was silent as well. Those who knew him would have thought this next to impossible; he was usually so raucous, even crude at times. Nor could he have explained it to them. The fact was that he hadn't met someone he wanted to help this much in a long, long time, since the day another tearful, bloody bride to be had stumbled into the afterlife.

Emily had been the first person he had let himself care about after his death, some fifty years before. Until then he had focused on his music. Pour yourself into something that can't reject you; he had it all figured out.

And then she came, and all that mattered was her. She wrecked his carefully sewn façade of lightheartedness, but it was alright because it wasn't important any more. Only she was. Bonejangles helped heal her while she healed him, and for a while he thought they might have something more than friendship, but it was not to be. They just didn't click that way and once this was clear to both of them they stayed as friends. She was the first _real_ friend he'd ever had.

And Bonejangles was happy. The carefree attitude his friends saw now was himself, no longer a mask. His music was a joy of his he shared with all, and he was always able to help the newly deceased with his odd, but cheerful banter.

Now this young maid struck a chord deep inside him. She had sobbed most of her story to him as she cried in his arms, and it was very familiar. Victoria had spent her whole life doing what was expected of her to the best of her ability, but had never been satisfactory. Her life had ended in tragedy at the one time she stood up for herself.

Quite familiar indeed.

Bonejangles tilted his head, his eye rolling from the left socket to the right in its comfortingly habitual manner as he studied the girl. She really was pretty; not a raving beauty, but pretty. Her eyes were large and her crying had not made them red rimmed, death had put a stop to that. Her brown hair had come tumbling out of its severe bun and now framed her face, softening it overall so that her eyes no longer seemed to bulge.

She looked none the worse for her violent death except for the left side of her forehead where part of the flesh had come away, revealing a patch of white bone.

She was a slender little thing; delicate looking, as though she were made of porcelain. No, that wasn't right. It was more as if she had been treated all her life as though she were porcelain and now, having received a fall, believed herself to be broken.

Her small hands, one bare and blue, one still gloved, were gripping her thin arms as she hugged herself, eyes fixed on the floor.

He couldn't bear to let her stay like that.

"Miss Victoria?" She started, as though she had forgotten he was there. She looked up, and he half expected her to start again upon seeing him, but instead she gave him a wan smile, her ungloved hand snaking up to brush back her wayward hair once more.

"I don't even really know what I'm crying so much for," she said shakily.

"Now what d'you mean by that, lit'tle maid?" Bonejangles asked. He kept his voice as soft as hers, not wanting to startle her.

"I had absolutely nothing to live for." Victoria gave a sudden harsh laugh which turned into a sob on its way out. Bonejangles was astounded.

"What abou' yer family?" Another little laughing sob from the young girl.

"Mother and father were always ashamed of me. The only thing they'll be disappointed about is that no money will be forthcoming from Barkis." Victoria paused, thinking. "At least I'm not married to him anymore," she said softly.

She held up her left hand, the once white glove soiled and torn, and touched the plain, gold ring on her finger with her other hand. Bonejangles watched her as she took hold of the ring in two fingers and gently worked it off. It sat in her palm for a moment, still beautiful and shining, even while the rest of her had become torn and grubby from her forced march through the woods. Then she turned and violently flung the metal circle to the farthest corner of the room. It clinked reproachfully against the far wall before falling to the dusty floor and becoming lost in the decay.

"Miss Victoria…"

"Is Victor happy?" she asked suddenly. Bonejangles considered her for a moment, unsure how to answer.

"Completely," he said then.

"In hell?" Victoria spat out.

"What?" The skeleton's jaw hung open and he had to put a hand up to make certain it didn't fall off.

"This _is_ hell, isn't it?" Victoria said. "It can't be heaven." She hugged herself more tightly, peering at him from between the hanks of hair that trailed over her face.

"No, no," Bonejangles said quickly, almost laughing. "You've got it all wrong, Girlie. 'Ell an' 'eaven ain't _places_. This place right 'ere, this is the only place ya can go to." He smiled at her kindly and ventured to take her hand in his own, feeling the soft flesh beneath his finger bones. She did not pull away. "'Ell an' 'eaven are states o' mind," he explained. "Victor an' 'is bride, they're in 'eaven. Neither of them would want to be anywhere else." He squeezed her hand slightly. "But it seems to me that you're goin' through 'ell right now, Miss Victoria." A shuddering sob escaped the kneeling bride, and Bonejangles squeezed her hand again. "Would you like me to 'elp you out of it?" he asked. Her head came up a little and she smiled slightly through her tears.

"Yes," she said, than added "on one condition."

"What's that?" the skeleton asked, perplexed.

"That you call me Victoria."

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"A toast! To the Newlyweds!" Albert held up his goblet. He was sanding on his chair in order that his dwarfish stature should not prevent him being seen by the host of dead surrounding the huge, black table. Victor chuckled as he raised his goblet.

"What is it, darling," the corpse bride inquired, lifting her own.

"I was just thinking about the first time I heard him say those words," Victor replied. His voice was soft and filled with warm amusement to match the smile on his thin face. Emily chuckled a little herself at the memory, and clinked her goblet with his.

There was a roar of delight round the length of the table as one and all drank, glittering goblets grasped in ghastly hands. Victor didn't know what the liquid they were toasting with was, and had a sneaking suspicion he would have found it revolting when alive, but now it was delicious; frothy, slightly bitter, also tangy, and with a hint of raspberries. He savored the flavor, allowing it to flow over his tongue, and gazed around at the company.

Skeletons clinked cups with corpses, telling jokes and laughing. The Ball and Socket Pub had been transformed, black streamers festooning the walls and ceiling. The long table groaned under its weight of decaying provender.

Victor couldn't remember when he'd ever been this happy; his beautiful bride at his elbow, surrounded by friends. Friends. He let the word roll around his mind for a moment, savoring it. He had never had friends before. Either other boys were of a higher or lower station than him, in which case he was forbidden to associate with them by his mother, or their parents disliked his parents.

These people liked him for who he was, and he could be himself around them. Already when he looked at them he saw them as his friends. Undead visage could not mask a large heart and kind personality. Figuratively, in any case.

Noticing something hard bump his leg Victor put one arm under the table and felt Scraps' skull nudge his hand. The young corpse scratched the back of his dog's skull absently, still taking in the wedding party with his eyes.

He felt a delicious sense of freedom knowing he needent answer to his parents ever again. He was his own person now, well; he supposed he was Emily's person as well. He gazed at her where she sat, smiling in rapture at the delights her friends had prepared for them.

Hesitantly, Victor snaked his right arm around her and Emily snuggled into him happily, resting her head on his shoulder. Joy flooded through Victor's tall, lanky body and his heart fluttered as he held the lacy, dark beauty. He felt that he could stay like this forever.

Unfortunately this was not to be, for after a moment a loud _crash_ emanated from the far end of the pub and the poor young man started so violently his chair overbalanced and he fell backwards with a sickening thump, taking his new bride with him.

Lying on his back with Emily on top of him, it took exactly three seconds for Victor to realize that he wasn't hurt, and another two seconds to remember the reason for this. He tried to pick himself up, but Emily, after the brief shock of the fall, was planted firmly on top of him and in the middle of a full-out giggle fit so strong she was gasping like a beached fish.

_So _that's _the way she wants it_, Victor thought. He felt extraordinarily daring, but decided to take the plunge. Using all of his admittedly diminutive force, he managed to flip them over so that he was on top. Then he attacked, long fingers dancing down his love's torso as though her ribs were the keys on a piano.

"V-Victor, stop!" Emily laughed, wheezing and struggling playfully. Of course she wasn't really out of breath; that was impossible. But the game would only be half as fun without the gasping. "I'll m-make you stop if you don't!" she cried to him.

"And just how will you do that?" Victor enquired mildly from on top of her.

"Like this!" And she suddenly seized his arms, pulling him closer and locking her lips with his. When she finally pulled back Emily smirked, resting her head on the floor. Victor's face was frozen in an absolute stupor. After a moment he shook himself.

"Darling, you can stop me any time you like," he said, still in a slight daze. There was a ripple of laugher from above them, and both lovers looked up to see that the entire wedding party was crowded around them. Coloring slightly, both bride and groom rose, brushing each other off as they did so.

As Victor finished shaking the dust out of his suit jacket he noticed that the members of the skeleton band, the only individuals not gathered around himself and his wife, were hard at work setting up their instruments at the far side of the pub.

"What are they doing that for, Emily?" Victor asked. Emily turned and when she saw what was going on her eyes lit up, sparkling like fresh fallen snow in the moonlight.

"It's time to dance," she exclaimed joyfully.

Victor Froze. "D-Dance?"

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Woo! That was my longest chapter so far in this story! I hope everyone enjoyed the V/E fluff (I did), and isn't too mad at me for the cliffhanger of Victor having to dance. ;)

Bonejangles and Victoria were very difficult to write in this chapter, but I really like how they came out in the end. What do you think? Believable?

Give me some feedback and I will do my best to come up with the (hopefully) final chapter more quickly than this one.

Thanks for reading and see you next time.


	8. Come What May

LIWDF chap 8

Love Is Worth Dying For chap 8

Disclaimer: What? You say Corpse Bride is mine? Shame on you! You ought to know I would never put Victor and Victoria together! _(Waves a little flag with 'V/E Forever' written on it)_

I also don't own the song Come What May. It is a wonderful song, sung by Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor and you should look it up and listen to it.

So I'm back. After a very long silence. Hope you all haven't forgotten me. Welcome to chapter 8, my faithful fans! I feel almost sorry to be finishing this story, I really like it. At the same time, however, I really don't feel like I have enough inspiration to continue it much more, and I want to end it here in order to preserve my attraction for it.

So enjoy, and I hope to write more Corpse Bride fics in the future.

* * *

Dedicated to my friend Laura, who is a huge Tim Burton fan, and a wonderful person, and who will probably never read this. Whatever you decide to do with your future I know you have the drive and the ingenuity to do it. Remember to value yourself and never let anyone stop you.

* * *

"_Father, I want to dance with _him_." The red head smiled and brushed a coiled ringlet of hair away from her face. Victor gulped. Her voice was purposely loud so that he would hear it and respond with the expected offer. He could feel her eyes burning in his face and chest. He sensed his mother standing behind him, breath whistling past his ear and knew what was coming. The woman laid one plump hand on his shoulder._

"_Well, go on," she commanded._

_A murmur. "I'm nervous, mother."_

"_Nervous? Posh!" She lowered her voice and the pressure on his shoulder increased. "I _need_ the approval of that girl's father. This is important to me boy, so dance with her!" _

_A shove in the small of his back and Victor felt himself careening toward his intended dance partner. He stopped in front of her and she smiled coyly at his hesitation. _

"_Victor, isn't it?" A small nod. "Well, don't you have something you want to ask me?"_

Victor closed his eyes painfully, remembering what came next. He had simply been too nervous. He was shaking and uncoordinated. He had stepped on one of her pretty, brocade slippers and gone reeling over on top of her and torn a long, jagged rip down the front of her beautiful dress. Needless to say, his parents did not get her fathers approval. He didn't even know her name, yet she haunted him and now, on his wedding night, she still persisted.

"Victor?"

Victor looked with difficulty past the pain of long ago and met the soft, black eyes of his bride.

"What's wrong, darling?" the corpse bride asked him, and in spite of himself, Victor felt a trickle of warmth in his heart at the sincerity and love lacing her voice.

"I've just…had some bad experiences, dancing." He felt miserable and useless as he said it, as he saw a worry line creep over her formerly laughing eyes. It wasn't right that she should worry so much about him.

"Oh, how sad!" Her bony arm crept around his shoulders comfortingly, and she leant in so she could whisper in his ear. "You know what we can do then?"

"Uh, no," Victor murmured. He was completely mystified, and just a little distracted by her face so close to his own.

"We'll have to make some good ones!" Emily pronounced with enthusiasm. Then, before he could protest or even fully realize what she meant, Victor felt her seize his hand and guide him, gently but firmly, out onto the dance floor.

Victor was certain his heart would have been beating loudly enough for the whole congregation to hear it, had it not already stopped forever some hours ago. _Well, that's one thing to be thankful for_ he thought distractedly.

"Just relax darling," Emily whispered. She had taken his hands in hers and pulled him close. He suddenly realized how close to him she was. Her face was radiant with happiness and reassurance and her eyes… Her eyes were glowing with such emotion. They were like the reflection of the full, white moon, shimmering on the water of a deep, cool lake. He drank in their love and found himself refreshed.

"I love you." He didn't quite know where the words came from. They seemed to begin in his throat with an emotion so strong it was almost a physical pain, and then trickle through his whole body until they finally found an outlet past his lips.

"Then trust me," she answered, eyes on his.

And he did. He did trust her. When had he ever really trusted anyone? When had he ever loved anyone? What was this world, so full of feelings and sensations he had never experienced? This was his world now, and he trusted her; Emily, his wife, his world. He trusted her.

The music began.

* * *

Victoria followed Bonejangles through the empty streets. They were not very encouraging, being very run down and filled with various unpleasant, often unmentionable things. They passed a shop which displayed an array of baskets filled with disembodied hands and arms. The young bride almost screamed aloud when, as they passed, the hands started moving and waving at them.

Bonejangles was her anchor, her lifeline, holding her away from the brink of despair. It was surprising that she was already so comfortable with the walking skeleton, but some time in the middle of her story of woe, she had realized that it really didn't matter. He was comforting and gentle and funny and somehow familiar all at once. He did not speak, and she got the feeling that he was deep in thought. Several times, he raised one hand and made to scratch his skull with it, before coming to himself and lowering the offending appendage.

Victoria knew they were going to Victor's wedding reception, and she wasn't certain how she felt about that anymore. Since hearing Victor's confession to the Corpse Bride in the church, she had felt such a kaleidoscope of shattering emotions that it was difficult to sort how she felt about anything anymore. And she was feeling…drained. _I feel as withered as an old corpse_, she thought, and had to clap one blue hand over her mouth to stop an outburst of macabre laughter.

And yet, in spite of it all, she was feeling better than she had before. Yes, she felt drained and empty, but she also felt _open_. Just a few days ago, the company she was now keeping, the circumstances she was in, the streets they were traveling through, one or all of them would have sent her shaking to her room. Now she was…braver? Perhaps she was. Or perhaps she just had nowhere to run to.

They had stopped. Victoria broke out of her confusing thoughts and looked around her. They were standing outside a building of black wood, dark and dingy, yet bright with garish blues, greens and oranges. A weathered sign hung down above her head, creaking softly, although how exactly it had become weathered down here was a mystery. It was probably simply for ambiance.

As she stood there, Victoria heard a strain of soft music drifting through the dark timbers.

"Is this…it?" she asked softly.

"Yup." Bonejangles sounded almost apologetic. There was a long, trapped, silence. "We don' have ta go in, if ya don' want to," he continued after a moment.

She hadn't intended to be quite that obvious. Victoria sighed. She could decide not to go in; no one was pushing her, which was in itself, a completely new experience for the young bride. But, in the end, did she really want to? She didn't want to start off her existence like this, out in the dark. Even with Bonejangles beside her. And she knew he wanted to go in. She could feel it in his voice. He wanted to, but he would stay out here with her if she asked him. Just to know that gave her a warm feeling deep down in her dry soul. And that was all she needed.

"Let's go," she said, and opened the door.

* * *

At first, Victor was completely frozen. He felt like a branch caught in the frost, arms and legs stiff and brittle. He felt cold, even though he knew that was impossible now. The music was starting, and he couldn't do this.

No, he could.

He let the music recede into the background and raised his eyes to meet those of his wife. Her eyes, her lips, that wonderful smile, how had he ever deserved someone like her? But that didn't seem important any more either. She was here, and she loved him. That certainty was the most wonderful fact he had ever known.

The music flowed on, soft and beautiful, and they moved to it, together. They began simply holding hands, but slowly moved closer, and closer still, until Emily was resting her head on his shoulder, and the scent of her filled him and mingled with the simple joy of being so close to her, and of being here, among friends. He clasped her to him more tightly, communicating his happiness to her without words.

He was only mildly conscious of the other corpses moving out on the dance floor. The music had begun to speed up now, and they were moving faster as well, to keep up. It was easy now to keep dancing. He was dancing with Emily. He spun her around and brought her back to his arms, and he heard that wonderful chuckle of hers as she cuddled into his shoulder once again.

He would do anything for her, to make her happy, to hear that laugh once again. The realization should perhaps have been frightening to him, but it wasn't. Because what he said before had been true. He trusted her.

Only when the song ended did the world come back into focus. The room was filled with gaiety. The dance floor was filled with corpses, some in couples, some in groups, and others alone. The members of the skeleton band were joking with each other as they conferred about what song to play next.Step One: check crack in wall (N) for traps

Victor allowed his eyes to wonder over this happy scene until finally they rested on the one person in the pub who did not belong, the person he had forgotten about in the ecstasy of the dance.

"Victoria."

* * *

When she felt her husband tense up beside her, Emily broke off her conversation with the corpse next to her, and turned to see what was wrong, and then she two felt her body tense unconsciously.

Through the crowd of dancers, Victoria was advancing toward them. Her hair was loose, and although it was tangled, it hung becomingly about her face. Her skin, Emily noticed distractedly, was paler blue than that of her husband and herself, and was set off by the ripped and draggled, yet still somehow mercilessly severe, wedding dress she still wore. Her expression was unreadable, but her cheeks were wet with tears.

Victor went to meet her as she approached, but he seemed not to know what to do. He held out one hand, but let it drop limply to his side again. Victoria had stopped directly in front of him and was gazing at him with her large, tragic eyes. Impulsively, Emily advanced as well, until she stood once more beside her husband.

Then Victor lent forward suddenly, and enfolded the young woman in his awkward arms. There was a purpose to him now, as there had been so often of late, and Emily felt the tension drain out of her as she watched the embrace. Emily too, after her death, had wished for someone familiar to hold.

Victoria sobbed into his shoulder only for a moment before pulling back. Now her eyes saw both of them, standing together. Fresh tears were attacking her cheeks, but she was smiling a little too.

"Congratulations," she whispered.

* * *

Victoria was the object of everyone's eyes, but it was not so bad, because these eyes were not disapproving, they were not judging her.

There were so many corpses! Victoria had not stopped to think before of how many people passed on over the years, even in such a small town as this. She had seen them all before, of course, in the church, but her mind had been otherwise engaged.

And now she looked at Victor and his wife, his corpse bride. She had said 'congratulations' largely because she really didn't know what to do, and had therefore fallen back on her polite upbringing again, but she was surprised to discover, now, that she meant it. She had heard Victor's speech in the church, but at the time, she had been thinking only of her own troubles; that Victor was in love with a corpse, that he was willing to die for her. Victoria had thought she loved Victor. He was sweet, in a nervous sort of way. He was gentle and cultured, handsome, and most important, he was to be her husband.

All of her life, Victoria had dreamed of finding someone she loved to marry, and when Victor came along, it had seemed as though she had. And she had 'loved' him, with all her heart. Then when she had seen him with that corpse, and heard his heartfelt confession, it had been like a knife in the ribs. _Her_ love, _her_ husband, _her_ happiness had been stolen away, leaving her with nothing.

But now she knew she had never really loved _him_ so much as she had loved the _idea_ of him. She had loved the idea of a husband she could love, and who would take her away and give her freedom from her parents forever.

And now she _was_ free from them. And she had eternity to find someone she loved.

"What is your name?" she asked Victor's wife suddenly. Her voice was calmer than one would expect from looking at her face, for her wild emotions finally seemed to be settling.

"Emily," answered the bride. "Are you all right, Victoria?"

"I…don't really know," Victoria said softly. She looked into Emily's eyes and saw concern and compassion. "But I think," her voice was stronger now, "I think I will be, with a little help." And she cast a glance back to where Bonejangles stood nearer the door.

Emily held out one white-gloved hand, and Victoria took it in her bare one. Everything was alright.

The moment ended when all three corpses heard a sharp rapping, and looked over to see that Bonejangles had crossed to the stage. He had stolen somebody's leg bone somewhere along the way, and was now using this as an improvised gavel, rapping it against a bench to call attention to himself.

"Greetin's, everyone!" the skeleton called when he had the full attention of the house. "I do 'ope yer all enjoyin' yourselves!" This was met with cheers, applause, and a chorus of yeses and are we evers.

"Is it time already?" Victor asked faintly.

"Mhmmm," Emily affirmed, chuckling. "And don't worry, darling, you will be fine."

"What is this?" Victoria asked, mystified.

"Oh, just something Victor and I were working on before the reception," Emily said.

"An' now," Bonejangles announced, "The bride and groom 'ave a little song they'd like to sing for you all!" The cheers increased, and Victor and Emily were born forward onto the stage. They made their way together to the old piano which stood against the wall and bowed together before seating themselves.

Victoria was feeling a little lost amid the multitude until she caught Bonejangles' eye and he winked at her.

* * *

Victor and Emily sat together at the old piano. _I should really feel nervous,_ he thought. But he didn't. Somehow all he felt was elated. He was so happy he felt as though he could float.

Beside him, Emily felt the same. Who would have ever guessed that this miracle would happen for her? She felt Victor beside her. How could she have been so lucky?

Together their hands extended to the keys in the now silent room, and they began to play. They played a few bars of the song together in silence, and then Victor began to sing, softly but clearly.

Victor:

_Never knew I could feel like this_

_Like I've never seen the sky before_

_I want to vanish inside your kiss_

_Every day I love you more and more_

_--_

_Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing?_

_Telling me to give you everything_

_Seasons may change... Winter to Spring_

_But I love you until the end of time_

_--_

_Come what may_

_Come what may_

_I will love you, until my dying day_

_--_

Emily:

_Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place_

_Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace_

_--_

Together:

_Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste_

_--_

Emily:

_It all revolves around you_

_--_

Together:

_And there's no mountain too high_

_No river too wide_

_Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side_

_--_

_Storm clouds may gather_

_And stars may collide_

_But I love you, until the end of time_

_--_

_Come what may_

_Come what may_

_I will love you, from my dying day_

_--_

_Oh, come what may_

_Come what may_

_I will love you_

_--_

Emily:

_Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place_

_--_

Together:

_Come what may_

_Come what may_

_I will love you, from my dying day_

_--_

As the last clear notes of the duet faded Victor turned to Emily amid the thunderous applause.

"Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place," he said softly.

_And so it is_, Emily thought, _Forever and ever_.

* * *

Thank you for reading, and for all of your support during the writing process. And check out my other stories if you feel like it.

I hope I have stayed true to the characters and the feeling of the wonderful movie.

Thanks again,

Deyinel


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